The Second Time Around
by mur xo
Summary: New one-shot up! "When the time came, it would be hard to deal with. Harry fully trusted his family to accept him, past or not, and that helped a great deal."
1. Three's Company!

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own a thing. I don't own the the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfictions.

**Author's Note**: What plot? Well, yes, it is rather plot-less. Please forgive that. It is, however, full of Potter family fluff. And we _all_ love those second generation Potters. I haven't decided on whether or not I'll make a lot of second generation one-shots with this in other chapters, or if this will be a stand alone. I guess it depends on the results of the reviews. If you guys like it, then I'll be happy to supply you with more.

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**THREE'S COMPANY**

_Children need love, especially when they do not deserve it_

"No!"

James' shrill yell rang through the house, as he yanked his toy owl out of his younger brother's hands.

"Mine!" He shouted, shaking a stubby, accusatory finger at his baby brother, as if reprimanding him.

Albus promptly burst into tears at James' loud voice, his wails echoing throughout the house. They were loud enough to awaken Ginny Potter, who had finally fallen asleep after a much needed nap. Much to her dismay, the cries didn't stop, but got worse, the more time she waited.

Without much choice, Ginny swung her legs over the side of the bed, struggling to sit up with her very round stomach. She carefully crawled out of her bed and wrapped her robe around herself tightly, before making her way to her youngest boy.

As soon as she came into view, Albus' cries died down some, as his hands extended to Ginny, clearly signaling that he wished to be picked up.

"Mummy!" Albus squeaked out, his voice chocked with tears. He walked over to her and wrapped his hands around her knees.

"Albus, what's all this about?"

She picked her son up carefully, holding him against her side as she wiped away the hair stuck to his face by his tears. Her hips rocked on their own accord, easily reciting the soothing motion she had picked up since James was a newborn. Albus wrapped his small hands around his mother and clung to her tightly, his face red with what Ginny detected as anger.

"James yelled!" He accused, burying his head into his mother's shoulder to hide from his older brother's deadly glare.

"At you, Al?" She asked, slightly confused. Her eyebrow rose slightly, getting lost in her disheveled bangs. Her attention turned from her youngest son to her eldest. "James, is that true?"

Before James had a chance to reply, Albus cut him off. "Mummy, he won't let me play with Hooter!"

Realization dawned on Ginny and she shook her head disapprovingly at James. "James Sirius Potter, Daddy and I have taught you better! You share your toys with your brother!"

James only shook his head and pouted, hugging his stuffed owl to his chest. "Mine," he said softly, looking down at Hooter.

"Oh James," Ginny shook her head and sighed heavily, letting it go. She was much too tired and she was sure it would pass over.

Looking at Albus, she kissed his forehead and let him down, her eyes scanning what she could see of the house.

"Where is that father of yours, hmm?"

Ginny was going to kill him for not taking his fatherly duties seriously. She could have gotten a good hour of sleep in, if it hadn't been for him not watching the children. The children that were only four and three. They could have gotten into serious trouble in those few minutes he wasn't here. Oh, Harry James Potter was a dead man.

"How about some lunch?" Ginny asked softly, extending her hands to her two children. At the eager replies, she led them into the kitchen, sitting them at the table before she opened the cabinet. She pulled out a loaf of bread and the peanut butter, and set herself to make peanut butter sandwiches. It wasn't the most nutritious meal, but under the circumstances it would do.

James saw the peanut butter and his nose wrinkled in distaste. "I don wanna peanut butter sandwich!"

Ginny's patience slipped momentarily, and she placed the knife onto the counter, before looking at her son. "James, you will eat whatever Mummy makes you, understand?" The look she gave her son made room for no arguments. Usually when they saw it, they would know she was not in the mood to be trifled with.

Frowning, James shook his head and kicked at the leg of the chair. "No!"

Ginny leveled her son with her best Weasley glare and stood in a stance that was much like her own mother's. Unintentionally, her hands found their way to her hips and her left foot stuck out a bit.

"Are you telling me 'no', James Potter?"

Defiantly, James nodded his head once again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes," was his answer, a bit too bold for Ginny's liking.

"Then you can go march yourself up to your room and rethink that foul mood you are in!" Ginny pointed towards the staircase, tapping her foot to show that she was not in the mood for any more naughtiness.

James looked at his mother angrily, before jumping off of his chair and shoving it so it hit the table. He scurried past his mother, who was not unknown to swat passing bottoms, before running up the stairs and slamming the door to his room.

Ginny shut her eyes and silently counted to ten, to calm herself down. Her boys ever rarely misbehaved. They were sweet tempered and good natured, and Ginny couldn't love them any more if she tried. For some reason her eldest was being

impossible to deal with today and she couldn't understand why. It was like a little monster had taken over her son.

Turning back to Albus, Ginny smiled and looked at the fridge.

"Want to get the milk out, Al?"

Albus nodded eagerly as he walked over to the fridge door and pulled out the small half gallon of milk, handing it to his mother proudly. "Thanks, pumpkin," Ginny replied, tapping Al's nose while taking the milk. She poured a glass for Albus and finished his sandwich, before placing it on the table for her son to eat.

"Mummy, aren't you hungry?" He asked, his eyes wide and serious. Ginny simply shook her head.

"Not right now. You eat up."

Albus nodded his head seriously before taking a bite out of his sandwich. Ginny took a seat next to him at the table, watching her son with a smile on her lips. He looked so much like Harry it was amazing. While James looked more like both of them, Al inherited everything but Harry's emerald green eyes. Placing a hand on her stomach, she wondered who this next one would take after. If they had another James running around the house, she would commit suicide. James, true to his name, was a troublemaker. However, he only did it with good intentions. She saw the way his eyes sparkled with pride every time he made someone laugh. Sometimes, though, he would go a little too far.

A pop in the living room pulled her out of her thoughts, as her husband came into view. Seeing him made her anger reappear, and she quickly looked away from him. Oblivious to his mother's anger, Al gave his Dad a smile full of peanut butter.

"Daddy!" Al squealed, like he hadn't seen him in years, his mouth full of food.

"Albus, don't talk with your mouth full," Ginny lightly scolded, watching her husband come in to give Albus a kiss on the head.

When he leaned over to do the same to Ginny, she abruptly stood up and made her way over to the few dishes that were piled in the sink. Thinking of nothing better to do than clean them, she started to run the water and placed detergent into the sink.

"Gin…?" Harry asked with confusion, his eyes watching her vicious scrubbing motions.

"Not now, Harry," she said nodding to Albus. She tried not to get into fights with Harry when her children were there to witness it.

Harry nodded his head and took Albus' empty plate over to Ginny, handing it to her, before going back to his son.

"How about we go on up to your room and read for a bit, Al?" Harry tried to make it sound like he wasn't trying to get Albus to take a nap. Lately, Al was at the stage where he would fight tooth and nail at the mention of a nap. Harry, not in the mood for a fight, would always try to coat it with promises of stories, to make his little boy settle down.

Albus nodded his head excitedly, getting up from his seat so he could follow Daddy up the stairs.

"There's a slight problem with that, Harry," Ginny interrupted her cleaning and turned around to look at he pair. "James is having a timeout in their bedroom."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at his wife in a silent question of 'why', before picking his youngest son up, who was getting cranky.

"C'mon, Al. Let's go to Mummy and Daddy's room!"

Albus smiled against his father, before they disappeared up the staircase, leaving Ginny to clean up the mess left behind. She sighed slowly, and began cleaning the kitchen. Before she was done, the place was immaculate, the cleanest it had been since they moved into the place.

As she waited for Harry to come back downstairs, she sat herself in the living room. She placed her hands behind her aching back, wincing at the pain. Her due date was two weeks away. How on earth was she going to deal with another little Potter? Ginny's eyes fluttered and closed, as she thought about it. If it was a boy, they were naming it Cedric. While Ginny wasn't keen on the name, it was something Harry insisted on, and quite honorably so. Cedric Remus Potter would be the name of the new addition, if it came out male. Ginny silently prayed that it would be a girl. She loved her sons, but a daughter would be nice. If it was a girl, she would be Lily Luna Potter, the same name the couple had picked out when James was born.

A gentle hand caressing her shoulder made Ginny open her eyes. She stared at her husband, expectantly, waiting for an apology.

"Ginny, you're mad at me because I left, aren't you?" To Harry's credit, his eyes lowered in shame, as guilt wormed its way into him.

"Yes, Harry. You were watching the children, while I was upstairs sleeping! You can't just abandon them! Merlin, think about all of the things that could have happened to them! You don't leave a three year old with a four year old unattended! I know you aren't that dense!"

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head seriously, his eyes searching his wife's pleadingly. "I know, Gin, and I would never have done it if you weren't upstairs. Something came up and…"

"What on earth came up that was so important that you left your children to fend for themselves, Harry Potter?"

"Well, erm…"

"I'm waiting."

"Hermione's water broke." Harry looked relieved when it was out, but felt bad. Ron and Harry had made a deal that they wouldn't tell their wives if the other went into labor. Because they were both very pregnant, the long process of watching the other's labor would do no good.

"Her… It… Oh Harry, that's wonderful!" Ginny's anger disappeared quickly and she threw her arms around her husband.

"Yes. Ron flooed and was in a state. I had to bring them to St. Mungo's. I did it as quickly as I possibly could."

"We need to go over there, Harry!" Ginny attempted to get up, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"You can't go like this, Ginny. Besides, who would watch the children? The baby isn't going to come any faster if the whole Potter clan is there cheering it on."

Ginny huffed and stuck out her lower lip. "Fine. But the minute it's born, I'm going to see them! That's my niece or nephew too, you know!"

Harry let out a soft laugh before nodding his head and kissing his wife's temple.

"So, James?"

"Your son has been a right little monster since you've been gone."

Harry frowned at the news, and shook his head. "What's he done?"

"He was awful to Albus and then pulled a mini tantrum with me. I've never seen him so angry," Ginny said, sighing as she delivered the news.

"I'll go talk to him. Why don't you go upstairs and nap with Al?"

Ginny beamed at her husband and nodded her head. "Brilliant plan, Mr. Potter."

Harry followed his wife up the stairs, but stopped at his sons' room, instead of following her to the master bedroom. He knocked on the door once, before opening it. The sight before him caught him by surprise, not at all what he was expecting. Normally, if he or Ginny sent one of their children for a time out, the child was repentant and full of apologies by the time one of them came up to talk with them. This was obviously not a normal case. There was something going on with his eldest son besides just simple misbehavior.

The side of Albus' room was completely messy, obviously the result of one of James' tantrums. A small bag was placed on James' bed, filled with his clothes and his favorite stuffed animals. Harry quietly shut the door behind him and looked at James, who had failed to acknowledge his father's presence.

"What's this?" Harry asked, motioning towards the bag of clothes.

"I'm leavin'" His son's simple reply was sharp and sorrowful.

"Where you goin'?"

James simply shrugged and turned further away from his father. "I'm runnin' away. I'm not 'posed to tell you where I'm goin'."

"Running away, eh? Are you sure you want to do that?"

James simply nodded his head defiantly, his eyes never leaving the carpet. Harry sighed heavily, walking in front of James to make his son look at him.

"James, c'mon. Enough is enough."

Much to Harry's bewilderment, James shook his head and threw the bag of clothes on the floor, cluttering the room even more.

Harry reached out to hold him, to stop him from kicking and potentially hurt himself. James just kicked his father as well, elbowing his in the process.

"James Sirius Potter, I think you need to cool off," Harry said sternly, eyeing his son with an expression of determination.

"No!"

Turning James around, Harry walked him over to the furthest corner in the room.

"I want you to stay in this corner until I tell you to come out. Understood?"

James nodded his head as Harry took a seat on his son's bed. Harry was acting on pure instinct. He had never really had to punish one of his children before. Ginny normally took care of that for him, as Harry was the softie. But his wife needed her rest, and Harry simply couldn't allow James to get away with his awful behavior.

Harry glanced at the clock, the face of it surrounded by whizzing brooms for décor, and settled on ten minutes. Ten minutes seemed an appropriate amount of time for his four year old to stand in the corner. Although, he was no expert. Ginny was much better in this department, with all of the siblings she had growing up.

Keeping one eye on the clock, and one eye on his son, he watched James start to shift from one foot to the other. His position of defiance changed, and his shoulders slumped forward. His head faced downwards, and Harry thought he heard a sniffle coming from that direction.

As the last minute was up, Harry cleared his throat and gave all of his attention to the corner.

"Okay, James. You can come out now."

Harry hadn't expected his son to come flying at him, with tears running down his cheeks. He hugged his son back, tightly, rubbing a hand over James' back.

"I-I s-sorry, Daddy!" Harry listened to his little one cry, and pulled him onto his lap.

"Oh, James," Harry's hand went from James' back to the ends of his hair. It gently wove through the hair at the bottom of James' scalp, a soothing motion Harry learned long ago worked for his oldest son. He reserved it just for him.

Harry's free hand tapped James' temple gently, as Harry looked into his son's eyes.

"I want to know what's going on up here. Why were you so naughty today, baby?"

James sniffled and wiped a sleeve over his running nose, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry!" He repeated, clearer this time, now that he had Daddy's comfort.

"You're forgiven, James. I just want to know what has you so upset."

"When the baby comes, you won't love me anymore! You can only love two babies! You usta love me and Al, but now the baby will come! I'm oldest, so I'll be kicked out!"

Harry tried to follow his child's reasoning, but honestly couldn't make sense of it.

"Baby, Mummy and I could never stop loving you. We'll love your brother or sister just as much, but you'll always be loved in a different way. You're our oldest, our first born. We'll always love you longest, James. Remember that for me, okay?"

Harry planted a kiss on James' forehead as James clung onto his Daddy tightly.

"Promise?"

"Swear."

At that James smiled through his tears, and rested his head on Harry's chest.

"How about we join Mummy and Al for a nap, eh?"

James nodded his head as Harry picked him up and carried him to their bedroom. He smiled gently at his wife and son, Ginny curled protectively around Albus, and climbed into bed. He placed James next to him, so both children were in the middle, while him and Ginny were on the outside. He couldn't have one of them falling out.

James fell asleep almost instantly, as Harry's hand wove through his son's hair. Eventually he drifted off as well, feeling like his world was perfect. He had the perfect wife and the perfect family. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

It wasn't long before Ginny woke up, her stomach growling. She slowly got out of bed and looked at the scene in front of her. She frowned at the track of tears still stained on James' cheeks, but knew Harry must have taken care of it. Leaning over Albus, Ginny brushed the hair out of James' face and kissed his cheek.

"Sleep well, Angel."

Ginny started walking out of the room to make herself food, but stopped when she heard James' voice.

"I love you Mummy."

Ginny smiled at the sleepily muttered words, knowing her son was already fast asleep once again.

She had never been happier to hear those words.

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Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it. A simple acknowledgment would be amazing!

xo Mur


	2. More Than a Bargain

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own a thing. I don't own the the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfictions.

**Author's Note**: What plot? Well, yes, it is rather plot-less. Please forgive that. It is, however, full of Potter/Weasley family fluff. Thank you all who have reviewed the first one-shot. I was surprised by how many people actually enjoy reading Next Gen fanfics! If you want to see something in particular, I am always open for ideas. Please keep your lovely feedback coming! I hope you enjoy.

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**MORE THAN A BARGAIN**

_The great advantage of living in a large family is that early lesson of life's essential unfairness. _

"Ron, please, I'm begging you! I'll do anything you want, I swear it! Just please, please, please, do this one thing for me?"

Harry had resorted to pleading with his long time best friend, his one year old son clinging firmly around his neck.

"Gin's been a mess this whole week and I _need_ to get her out of the house, before the second one comes along! It's just for a few hours, Ron. And Hermione will be home soon!"

Ronald Weasley shook his head adamantly, absolutely refusing to baby sit the little horror that he called his nephew, even if it was for only a few hours.

"But Ron, it's for the good of your own sister! Don't you care about her well-being?"

"Of course I do, but I wasn't the one who decided to shack up and have a couple of children! Uh uh, no way Harry. That little creation was of your doing, your responsibility!"

Ron loved James, honest and truly. He wouldn't have taken on the duty of godfather if he hadn't. However, there had to be a line drawn somewhere, and babysitting his nephew on a Friday evening was simply out of the question. Besides, Fridays were date nights for him and Hermione. He didn't want James mucking that up for him!

"If you ever have children, I'll watch them everyday for a year!" Harry cringed at how desperate his voice sounded to his own ears.

"Harry, mate, I love you and your terror of a son, but me and Hermione have plans…" Ron finished lamely, knowing himself that Harry could justly counter that.

"Ron, you know Hermione won't mind! She's always offering to baby sit!"

Groaning, Ron passed a hand over his face, rubbing it viciously before squeezing his eyes tight. His friend could be quite persistent when he wanted to be. Ron didn't think he had much of a choice but to take care of his nephew for the night. It was either that, or listen to his friend beg and plead for the next four hours, which was anything but attractive.

"Fine, Harry. But you owe me one, you hear me?"

Harry beamed at Ron, shifting his son from his body to Ron's arms in a well practiced gentle motion. He ran a hand over James' back and kissed his baby son on the top of his head before turning back to the fireplace he had previously entered from.

"Thanks Ron! James, you be good for your Uncle Ron, okay? Don't give him too much of a hard time."

Harry grabbed a handful of powder, stepped into the fireplace, and disappeared with a whirl of fiery colors.

Ron looked at his nephew and rearranged him in his arms, hoping he was holding him right. While the youngest Weasley male had many nieces and nephews, he didn't have a child of his own. Not that he was planning on having a little one run around the house any time soon. He wasn't exactly a natural when it came to children. When they cried, Ron had no idea what they wanted. When they got cranky, he had no idea how to soothe them. Babies were an enigma poor Ronald Weasley had yet to figure out.

At the sudden disappearance of his father, little James started wailing. He extended one of his short, stubby arms towards the fireplace, his bottom lip quivering madly. Ron looked at his youngest nephew for a moment in horror, wondering what he could do to placate him. If only Hermione had been here with him, she would immediately know what to do. It was no wonder why she was a favorite among the aunts.

"Da Da!" James clenched and unclenched his little fist rapidly, as if he could reach out to Harry and pull him back from the great depths of beyond the fireplace.

"Mate, Daddy's gone for a bit. He'll be back soon," Ron tried to make his voice sound soothing and tender, but it came out more rough than he had intended.

The only words James had managed to make out were Daddy and gone, as he began sobbing even louder into his Uncle's shirt.

"Little buddy, don't cry," Ron tried, bouncing James up and down steadily. He moved from the living room into the playroom Hermione had insisted on making. The playpen inside was filled with all sorts of toys Hermione had picked up, right after Victoire had been born.

Reaching down, Ron grabbed a stuffed lion and wiggled it in front of James' face. At first, the small boy quieted, watching his uncle's antics with interest. When James realized that all Ron was doing was showing him the toy, he began crying again.

"Dada!" James' loud screech made Ron cringe as he quickly through the toy lion back into the playpen.

"You sure have a good set of lungs on you," Ron muttered under his breath, his eyes rolling as he thought about how pleasurable it would be to kill Harry when he came back.

James pout grew considerably and Ron was ready to cry himself. He tried to think back on his childhood, trying to remember what his Mum used to do when Ginny was distraught. All he could remember was Mum patting her on the head and setting her down with toys after her tears had dried. It really provided no help to poor Ron.

"Okay, how about we get you some food?"

Ron carried James into the kitchen and searched for something suitable for a one year old. Could one year olds even eat real food? Didn't they need some special mashed mush? A line of worry formed on his face as he looked in the refrigerator. He found nothing that wouldn't be a chocking hazard to his nephew. His eyes searched the counters, and landed on a bunch of bananas. Aha! He could mash the bananas into little bite sized pieces.

"Want a banana, James?" Ron looked hopeful at the little boy, who followed his uncle's gaze. Much to Ron's relief, the little bugger ceased his crying and gave him a watery smile.

"That's a boy!"

Ron wasted no time in mashing the banana. James eagerly stuffed piece after piece in his mouth, until he shook his head, signaling he wanted no more.

"You take after your Uncle Ron, don't you, Jamie?" Ron asked with a brilliant grin. "You're all about that food, right mate?" He pat his nephew's stomach as James let out a giggle.

Now that James had stopped crying, Ron wondered what he should do with him. He had no idea how he was supposed to go about entertaining a one year old. What did they even like to do? Ron had seen Ginny read to him multiple times, although Ron was sure that he understood none of what his mother was saying. He even witnessed Harry levitating a toy broom, before spelling it to whiz around the room. But what was _he_ going to do to entertain poor James?

James started wiggling around in Ron's arms, trying to free himself from his uncle's clutch. Clearly he wanted to get down and explore his new surroundings! Without giving it better thought, Ron carefully set James on the ground in a sitting position, watching with slight amazement as his nephew maneuvered himself on his hands and knees.

Ron was in such a state of shock, witnessing his nephew crawling for the first time, that he froze. He didn't realize that James was headed straight to his study, crawling as fast as his small limbs would take him, until a loud thud rang through the house.

"Merlin…"

Quickly Ron followed the noise, and stood before his momentarily stunned nephew, laying with books strewn around him on the floor from a wobbly table. James looked at Ron when he came in, and, after seeing the concern on Uncle Ron's face, burst into tiny sobs. He held out a small finger in Ron's direction as his cries increased.

"Boo-Boo!"

Ron scooped up the tiny boy in his arms before examining the slightly red appendage. It didn't appear that anything was drastically wrong with him, other than a minor scrape and a bit of a shock. Still, he imagined it must have been a bit terrifying for a one year old boy, to be attacked by an avalanche of decent sized books.

"James, you shouldn't have gone into Uncle Ron's study!" Ron scolded lightly, although his heart wasn't in it, seeing James in discomfort.

Remembering what his own mum would do when he got hurt as a child, Ron brought the finger up to his lips and gently kissed it.

"All better," he said, as James stared at him in awe. Slowly, a smile crept onto James' face and the last cries from his injury died away.

Ron thought that perhaps he should have bandaged the cut, or put some disinfectant on it. At the very least, Ron thought he should perform _some_ sort of first aid. But James simply wrapped his arms around Ron's neck and sighed happily. Ron certainly didn't want to shine attention on the 'boo boo' again, now that it seemed James had moved on. Besides, he didn't think he had any bandages small enough for James' finger. They would all swallow him whole, and it would surely make the damage look far worse than it was. Harry would probably take one look at his son and think Ron tried to kill him or something.

Ron carried James into the playroom once again, figuring it was probably the safest place in the house for a child to be. Since he had no kids of his own, the house was filled with breakables and things far too dangerous for children to get a hold of. Usually when they were babysitting, Hermione would take care of that. She would hurriedly roam the house, taking down anything that could be dangerous to her nieces and nephews. Ron was lousy about thinking ahead like that. He should have shut the study door before James had a chance to go in there and get hurt.

After they were safely inside the playroom, Ron shut the door tightly behind him. He didn't want James to hurry off somewhere and end up getting hurt again. He placed the little boy on the floor and smiled at him, as he brought over little figurines in the forms of Quidditch players. Lining them up in front of his nephew, he pet the boys head before nodding in approval.

"You're going to be just like your Daddy and Uncle Ron, huh, mate?" Ron asked gleefully, his face beaming at the mere thought of another Potter on the _Gryffindor_ Quidditch team. Because, of course, the little rugrat would be sorted into Gryffindor like his father and mother.

Smiling with pride as James picked up the Quidditch players, Ron watched him whirl them through the air. He listened to James make nonsensical noises, ones that only a baby could get away with making. James would make a brilliant Quidditch player. He would have to talk to Harry, to make sure he bought his son a broom as soon as the boy was able to fly.

Eventually, the happy noises and the playing stopped, as James crawled over to Uncle Ron and extended his arms. Ron obliged in picking him up, and sat James on his lap. He watched as James yawned widely, fighting the urge to yawn himself. Taking care of a child was positively exhausting! How on earth could people do it _every single day_?!

"How about I read to you, Squirt," Ron suggested, walking them into the living room and picking up one of Hermione's favorite children's books.

James rested his head against Ron's chest, as one of his thumbs wormed their way into his mouth. He shut his eyes as the soothing rumble of Uncle Ron's voice lulled him to sleep. As soon as Ron was sure James was sleeping, he put the book down and tightened his hold on the sleeping form on his lap. He rested his head against the couch cushions and took a deep breath, soon finding himself in a deep sleep as well.

When Hermione came home an hour later, she found her husband with her nephew sound asleep, a sight so endearing, she could have cried. A smile touched her lips, as she walked over to them and sat beside the two. One of her hands touched James cheek softly, as her lips connected with Ron's cheek.

Hermione's touch instantly woke Ron up, and he lovingly smiled at his wife.

"Hi," he said, shifting himself the best he could, without disturbing James.

"Hey. I see you did a fine job taking care of James by yourself today," she praised him, letting the proud leak into her voice.

"Well, uh, yeah…"

"That's really fabulous Ron. So, so great."

"Erm, I guess…"

"It shows how good you are with children, you know?"

Ron looked at her skeptically, raising an eyebrow in slight concern. What was his wife babbling about?

"It wasn't hard, Hermione… Not really, anyway."

"I'm so happy to hear that, Ronald."

"Uh… Yeah?"

"Yes. Because I just found out that you're going to be a Daddy." Hermione beamed at Ron, as her husband wore a decidedly sick look on his face.

"A…A Dad? Bloody hell!"

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Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it. A simple acknowledgment would be amazing!

xo Mur


	3. Gathering Leaves

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own a thing. I don't own the the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfictions.

**Author's Note**: What plot? Well, yes, it is rather plot-less. Please forgive that. It is, however, full of Potter/Weasley family fluff. Thank you all who have reviewed this so far. I'm really terrible at replying to reviews, but I promise I'll work on that. This one is for **Feff**. I hope I did the Harry/Teddy relationship justice for you, dear. If you want to see something in particular, I am always open for ideas. Please keep your lovely feedback coming! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**GATHERING LEAVES**

_Fall is piles of crunchy leaves,_

_Orange, gold, and red._

_Fall is sweaters with long sleaves_

_And blankets on the bed._

On most days, Harry Potter would love to have his godson come over and spend some time with him. Teddy Lupin's visits were a regular occurrence at the Potter house, especially when Ginny had a good dinner planned. Harry would never forbid the boy to spend the day with him, but that didn't mean that his company was always one hundred percent appreciated. He would die to protect the boy, who looked so much like his parents, it broke Harry's heart. There wasn't another person on the earth, aside from, perhaps, Andromeda, who loved little Teddy more than him. But when the day consisted of laborious yard work, it was only normal to wish that a five year old would play elsewhere.

Harry had desperately tried to convince Ginny to take Ted with her, reasoning before she left for work that he couldn't watch a five year old and rake leaves at the same time. Ginny's simple answer was to have him help out. It was true that Teddy looked up to Harry. In fact, Harry didn't really think it would take much persuasion to coax the boy into gathering fallen leaves and debris. Maybe, just maybe, Teddy would think the work was actually fun, a concept Harry just couldn't wrap his head around.

It wasn't that Harry was afraid Teddy would rather play on his miniature broomstick, than help out. Actually, to be perfectly honest, Harry would have preferred him to play with his beloved toy, than attempt to help around the yard. The only problem was that Harry only had one set of eyes, and one pair of hands. There was no humanly possible way he could watch his godson on the broom set and get the yard work done at the same time. Sure, Harry Potter was a talented wizard, but he clearly had his limits.

Everything would have been so much easier if he could use his wand to do the task. Just one tiny flick of his wrist, and he would be done with it all. The only problem was that, living around Muggles, the neighbors might not have taken too kindly with the abrupt disappearance of the scattered fall remains on the lawn. Poor Mrs. Downer across the street might just have a heart attack if Harry tried to pull off something like that. There were definitely drawbacks to living out of the immediate Wizarding World. In fact, he thought that he should start looking for a house where he could perform magic on a regular basis, without the fear of being found out.

The problem was, Harry was sure that little Teddy, as much as he adored the little guy, would just make a mess. He wasn't too old to remember watching the children in his neighborhood growing up. Harry used to envy them, watching them jump into the piles of leaves their parents had just compiled. The parents' faces, Harry had noted, had always turned from angry to amused, as they watched their little ones having fun with nature. Not opposed to a good time, Harry was afraid that if Teddy decided upon leaping into the piles, he would end up joining him. The whole job would be futile and time consuming, which was exactly why he wasn't particularly keen on having his godson over for the day.

Despite his feelings toward Teddy spending the day, Andromeda flooed them both over, leaving her grandson with Harry with a kiss, and a promise to be back the next morning at eleven. Teddy looked eagerly at his godfather, a mischievous glint in his eyes. For a few minutes, Harry just stared at him, wondering what to do. It would have been so easy to cave in and play a game with Teddy, instead of doing his domestic duties. However, he wasn't dumb. He knew how brilliantly that would fly over with Ginny, if he told her that playing a board game was more important than fixing up the yard.

"Harry…"

At the sound of young Teddy's voice, Harry snapped his head up and gave a dejected sigh. Shaking his head and capitulating to attacking the daunting lawn, Harry waved his arm in a summoning motion to his godson.

"C'mon Ted. Looks like we have a bit of yard work to do before we start in on any real fun," Harry muttered, looking a bit crestfallen as he opened the front door.

Teddy gave Harry a confused look, before following his godfather out the door. He stood firmly on the small porch, as he watched Harry go to the small shed, and pick up two rakes. Teddy noticed that one was considerably smaller than the other, and he figured his godfather wanted him to help out with this 'yard work'.

Harry handed the smaller one to his godson, an apologetic smile on his face. He hoped Teddy would be fine with helping him. After all, whenever he was over, Teddy was practically glued to Harry's side. It was adorable, really, how Teddy imitated everything Harry did. Why should today be any different?

Just as Harry was starting to really worry, with the confused and exasperated expression on his godson's face, Teddy spoke up.

"How, Harry?"

Teddy looked at the funny looking tool in his hand in amazement and bewilderment. Whatever it was, it sure looked funny, with all the squiggly spokes at the end! Harry mentally berated himself, as he realized Teddy hadn't seen one before. Andromeda never had to do yard work, as her lawn was spelled to remain groomed under the most harsh weather conditions. It was a Muggle creation, after all, and Teddy didn't exactly have a lot of knowledge about the Muggle world.

Harry flashed an easy smile at Teddy, as he leaned over and started raking some leaves.

"See, Teddy? Just like this."

Harry did the motion once again, slower this time, to make sure Teddy got the hang of it. He watched out of the corner of his eye, as Teddy struggled a bit. The boy's small hands had wrapped themselves tightly around the wooden pole, as he lightly brushed against the ground, barely rustling the leaves.

"Try it a bit firmer, Ted. Press down harder," Harry instructed, stopping his own raking motion to supervise his godson.

Still, Teddy couldn't get a good grip on the ground, which only frustrated the poor boy.

"I'm trying!" Teddy cried out, pushing his small body against the rake, in hopes of making a pile of his own.

It didn't take long for Harry to realize that Teddy was too small for the task he was asking him to do. There would have to be a slight change of plans made, in order to keep Teddy working and happy. Grinning, Harry gently took the rake out of Teddy's hands, before tossing it aside on the ground.

"Actually, Ted, you know what would be brilliant?"

An eyebrow rose in confusion as his rake was confiscated, and his godfather started making a new proposition. He shook his little head 'no', wondering why he was no longer helping Harry. That wasn't very fair! He was trying to do what Harry asked him, but his godfather hadn't given him much of a chance!

"You see this pile right here?" Harry pointed at the small pile he had already formed, nodding his head at Teddy. "It would be a big help if you could pick it up and place it in this bag!"

Harry dug through his coat pockets, pulling out a black garbage bag in the process. He handed it over to Teddy, who looked skeptical. To Harry's delight, Teddy took the offered bag and looked at it carefully. The task Harry asked him to do didn't seem very helpful at all. It just seemed that his godfather wanted him out of the way.

"Okay," Teddy responded, his tone sad and heavy. He lowered his eyes and worked hard on hiding his disappointment.

"Thanks Ted. You're a fine helper, you know that?"

Harry sensed his godson's apprehension and wanted to avoid a storm if he could. Lately it seemed that Teddy was very sensitive, almost seeking out criticism that wasn't dealt to him. Perhaps it was a stage all children went through, but Harry felt like he had to walk on eggshells around the little boy. Of course, Harry found no fault in Teddy's inability to rake leaves. He should have realized that he was far too young to do such an adult chore.

"Yeah, sure." Teddy walked over to the pile, kicking the edges of it with his sneakers.

"Ted, c'mon now. Thanks to you, I'll get this dreadful chore done much faster."

Teddy's little shoulders shrugged up and down, a pout pulling at his lips. Sighing heavily, Harry walked over to Teddy and squatted down in front of him. He placed a hand on each of his godson's shoulders and smiled softly at him. Harry noticed that the minute he came into contact with his godson, his hair, known to spontaneously change colors with his mood, changed to a vicious red. Noting it, Harry hoped his nosey neighbors didn't catch a glimpse of it.

"Teddy, what's going on here?" Harry asked, the concern showing in his face.

"You don't like me helping you! Gran doesn't like me helping her! Aunt Ginny doesn't like me helping her! No one needs me!" Teddy shouted, his balled fists shaking in anger.

"Ted, you know that---"

"It is true! It is!" Teddy stomped his foot on the ground, scattering the leaves that were already in a pile.

"Theodore Lupin, you stop your tantrum right now."

Harry's calm, yet firm, voice, pulled Teddy out of his fit immediately. His godfather never spoke like that to him! He was used to it, from his Grandmother, but never from Harry. Seeing the brief look of hurt on Teddy's face, and then the tears running down his godson's cheeks, Harry prayed for patience. A familiar feeling of guilt plucked at his stomach, knowing he had been the source of his godson's tears.

"Teddy, it's okay. Don't cry…" Harry didn't exactly know how to console a crying child, since Teddy was the first he had really encountered.

Pushing his palms against his eyes to hide his flow of tears, Teddy turned away from Harry, his shoulders shaking from the effort of his cries.

"Hey now, Ted. Let me see your face."

Harry walked around, so he was once again facing Teddy, and opened his arms to his godson. Teddy looked at Harry hesitantly, before wrapping his own arms around his godfather's neck. Once he had Harry in his grip, Teddy refused to let go. The love Harry held for the boy took over, and he followed his instinct, rocking Teddy gently until he calmed down considerably.

Patting Teddy on the shoulder as his godson pulled out of the embrace, Harry walked back over to his fallen rake. An idea formed in his head, as set himself to make a decent sized leaf pile. As Harry made a pile, he watched Teddy start picking up the trail of weathered grass and crisp brown leaf skeletons, left behind from the rake. Giving off an encouraging smile to Teddy as the boy placed them in the garbage bag, Harry finished his task.

"Teddy, why don't you come over here for a minute." Harry beckoned the boy to the pile, smiling ruefully, as he watched his much happier godson approach him.

"You see this, Ted? This is a leaf pile."

Teddy looked at him and nodded his head, his head cocked slightly to the side. Of course he knew what it was! Did Harry think he was dense?

"You know what's fun to do with leaf piles?"

At the question, Teddy shook his head no, his confused expression changing to one of eager interest.

"Let me show you."

With that said, Harry proceeded on jumping in the pile of leaves, throwing them around him as he did so. Teddy looked uncertain at this new game that his godfather seemed to enjoy. Watching Harry, Teddy decided to give it a go. It must have been fun if it even had Harry laughing with glee.

The two of them jumped, rolled and ran around the yard for the better part of the day. They made pile after pile, having a good time in each, before re-piling it and tossing it in the bags. By the time they had finished, the sun was setting, and Ginny had finally arrived home. She watched the two leaf covered boys, and couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Did you clean the yard, or wear it?" She bent down to give Teddy a hug, and stood on her tip-toes to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

"Great job, boys. I know just what you need."

With that, Ginny hurried off into the kitchen, as Harry shrugged his shoulders at Ted. Harry was surprised that the yard work had actually been fun. He felt like a child himself, running and chasing after Teddy, leaves whirling everywhere. It was like he gained a part of his missing childhood. Teddy had enjoyed himself too, asking Harry, as soon as they had finished, if he could help rake next week as well.

Placing a hand on Teddy's back, Harry guided him into the house, following Ginny's wake. When they got into the kitchen, the aroma of chocolate hit them in the face. Harry took off Teddy's jacket, before taking off his own, and took a seat in the living room.

"Teddy, you're not too old to sit on your favorite godfather's lap, are you?"

Teddy gave Harry an exaggerated look of annoyance before breaking off into a smile.

"No!"

Teddy came whizzing over to Harry, climbing on top of Harry's lap. He tucked his cold feet under his godfather's legs and smiled.

The scene was interrupted by Ginny, who came in carrying two mugs of hot cocoa, both with whipped cream on the top.

"Here you go. It'll warm you up a bit."

Ginny tapped Teddy's nose lightly, before handing each boy their respective mug.

"I just have to go grab mine, and then I'll join you. Be careful. Both of you. I don't want any spills!"

As soon as Ginny's back was turned, both godfather and godson looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Teddy then giggled, before taking a sip of his delicious drink. He snuggled into Harry's chest, before looking up at Harry with a smile.

"Uncle Harry?"

Harry nodded his head at him, an eyebrow risen with the word 'Uncle'. While Ginny was Aunt Ginny, he had always just been Harry to Teddy.

"Yes, Ted?"

"Wanna know something'?"

"Of course."

"You're my bestest friend in the whole wide world."

Harry positively beamed at the compliment, and hugged Teddy closer to him.

"You know what, Ted? You're mine too."

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Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it. A simple acknowledgment would be amazing!

xo Mur


	4. Head of House

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own a thing. I don't own the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fan fiction.

**Author's Note:** What plot? Well, yes, it is rather plot-less. Please forgive that. It is, however, full of Potter/Weasley family fluff. Thank you all who have reviewed this so far. I'm really terrible at replying to reviews, but I promise I'll work on that. This one is one I've been working on for awhile. I'm splitting it into four parts to keep each chapter at a read-able length. If you want to see something in particular, I am always open for ideas. Please keep your lovely feedback coming! I hope you enjoy.

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**HEAD OF HOUSE**

_You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance._

**PART ONE**

Harry cursed Ginny with every fiber in his being. What was she thinking when she left him like that? Surely Ginny wasn't _that_ confident in Harry's skills to hold the fort down while his beautiful wife went to Scotland for a press conference. The redhead, Harry concluded, was out of her bloody mind! There was absolutely no other excuse, no other manageable reason, why Ginny would leave him as the head of household, with three young children and a brooding twelve year old godson.

'Oh, Teddy will be great help, I'm sure, Harry,' Ginny had said, as she had packed on the night previous to her departure. 'You know how much he adores our children. He'll love to help you out.'

If only Ginny's words had been accurate, then Harry _might _have managed to pull this 'Super Dad' thing off. He could send James and Al off with Teddy to play in the backyard, while he tended to his mischief-seeking daughter. His beautiful angelic daughter proved to be quite adventurous, now that she could walk on her own. Dear Lily needed constant supervision, because she got into everything!

Oh, Ginny was mental alright, leaving poor Harry with their two, four and five year old. One of which was recovering from the last of the chickenpox, which only made him irritable and impossible to deal with. Albus, when told he was not allowed to scratch, threw the biggest paddy Harry had ever seen in his entire life. That included all the years at Hogwarts spent with Ron! Harry always warned Ginny about sending them to Muggle preschools. He thought he would protect his children from the various Muggle diseases by letting them spend their time with Mrs. Weasley, or Hermione. But Ginny would hear none of it! It really should have been his wife to reap the rewards of the after-affects of Al's illness. Instead, it was Harry who got hit with it.

Ginny had left Harry with a 'grounded' James, who was not allowed to play with his neighborhood friends, or visit his cousins for a whole week! Some mischievous prank he had preformed had been carried out a bit too far, and Ginny had no choice but to punish him. Honestly, who was Ginevra Potter really punishing? It was _Harry_ who had to deal with a cooped up, sulking James, while she merrily shipped herself off to another country!

Teddy had been in a right foul mood since he had stepped foot in the Potter house. Any hope of him helping out with the younger children had completely vanished when he saw this new display of attitude from his godson. If Ginny had been there, he might have had the chance to worm his way into Teddy's mind, and cheer him up a bit. But right now, Harry had his hands completely full! Surely he was going to die before the end of this.

Harry, legendary Boy-Who-Lived, was not prepared to take care of four children. If he hadn't been so stubborn, he would have enlisted the help of Hermione, or Ron. Any Weasley for that matter would have been wonderful, if they could help Harry take care of the children.

Yes, it was only three days, and two nights. Harry tried to reason with himself that it would be alright, because it wasn't that long. He learned very quickly, however, that two nights was an absolute nightmare, when dealing with _four_ little people.

The more Harry thought about it, the more he thought _he_ had been out of his mind when he _wanted _to have three children! Of course, he hadn't imagined Ginny's Quidditch career taking her to Scotland for a couple of nights. Damn it all! What in Merlin's name was Harry Potter going to do with James, Al, Lily and Teddy, while dear Ginny was away?

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**Day One, Part One**

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Harry's eyes cracked open, as he stared at the empty spot on the bed, sincerely missing his wife as two of his children jumped excitedly on the bed. Harry draped his hand over his eyes and stifled a groan, wishing to sleep later. Ginny was a saint, always getting up with the children in the morning, allowing Harry to get some more sleep. He wasn't used to early morning wake up calls from his beloved offspring.

"Mornin' Daddy!" Albus had wedged his way between James and Harry, his face inches away from his father's.

"Good morning, Al. James." Harry offered each a small nod of acknowledgement, the best he could summon at seven o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"Daddy, I'm hungry! What's for breakfast?"

The question from his oldest momentarily caught him off guard. Harry was a lousy cook. He burnt water, for Merlin's sake! Of course he would be expected to feed his kids, the act of actually doing so had completely slipped from his mind. Ginny was a wonderful cook, gaining all of those years of experience living at the Burrow as Mrs. Weasley's apprentice. So what exactly was Harry going to make his family for breakfast? That was a very good question.

"Yeah Daddy! What's for breakfast?!" Albus echoed his brother's words, a habit he had been picking up, much to James' dismay.

"Why don't we go downstairs and wait for Teddy and Lily to wake up, before we think about breakfast," Harry replied, thinking it was a smooth way to avoid the subject for the time being.

"But Daddy! I hungry!" Al's lower lip protruded in what Harry had to admit, was an impressive pout.

Harry felt himself cave and sighed, rolling out of bed. He grabbed his robe off of the single chair in the room, and wrapped it around himself quickly, before the little imps decided to take off and run downstairs without his supervision.

"Alright, alright! I'll get you something to eat!"

At this, two cheers whooped loudly through the house, as Harry placed his index finger over his mouth. Widening his eyes, Harry tried to his best to remain serious.

"Boys, Ted and Lils are still sleeping! You wouldn't want them to wake up, would you? They'd eat the yummy food all up on us!"

At that, Harry reached out his hands to his two sons, who each reflected the serious expression Harry wore on their own face. Harry tickled James, then Al, as the two of them twisted and squirmed to get out of Harry's tormenting grip.

"Stop Daddy, stop!" Al giggled, trying not to be too loud.

"Yeah Dad, stop it!" James said, before a mischievous glint formed in his eye. Glancing meaningfully at his brother, the tables turned, and Harry was soon at the mercy of James' and Albus' tickling fingers.

"Okay, okay, boys! I give!" His words were chocked with laughter as his sons finally stilled their fingers and slowly pulled their hands away from him.

Placing a hand on each son's head, Harry ruffled their hair playfully before gently nudging them ahead of him. He steered them out of the bedroom and down the hall, a hand on each of their backs. Stopping outside of Lily's room, he paused, making sure he heard no movement, before heading down the stairs that led to the kitchen.

Right, so he had to conjure something that was yummy and at least partially nutritious for his family. Harry took out a mixing bowl and opened the pantry doors, searching through the variously assorted colorful boxes in a desperate hope to find something easy to make. He began knocking boxes out of place, reading different labels, and tossing things aside, making the pantry a complete mess.

Harry stopped when he heard a big sigh heave from one of his boys. Turning around, slightly embarrassed at the lack in his ability to cook a meal, he faced a very annoyed, foot tapping James, and a more amused looking Albus.

"Daddy, Mommy sometimes lets us have ice cream for breakfast, if we've been extra good!" Albus claimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet with suppressed excitement.

At the comment, James rolled his eyes and glared at his father. "Can't we just eat _something_?" He asked, as his stomach let out a loud grumble.

Harry shook his head at Albus' comment and chuckled softly. "Al, I have lived with your mother for quite some time now, you know. I don't believe she would ever allow you to eat pure sugar at such an early hour in the morning," he lightly chided, winking at his son to take some of the edge out of the disappointment that would surely follow his statement.

Looking over at James, he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

"Perhaps if you stopped complaining and helped poor Dad get breakfast ready, we could eat _something_," Harry replied nodding his head to the opened, slightly disheveled pantry. "Take a look in there and see if there is anything you want that would be suitable for a breakfast meal."

Following their father's directions, both boys dug through the pantry and each pulled out a different box of cereal, waving it proudly in their hands.

Harry wasted no time in collecting the boxes from his sons, and hastily poured the milk and cereal into three bowls, giving his sons directions to sit at the table and wait patiently. As he set the bowls onto the table, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and smiled at his godson, who carried Lily in his arms.

"Morning," Teddy said as he handed Lily over to Harry, and took his godfather's seat at the table. "The munchkin was nearly pounding against her crib. I thought she broke it!"

Harry looked at Lily and smiled, tapping his finger against her nose tenderly, before glancing at his godson. "That bowl of cereal is yours, Ted," Harry nodded to his former bowl, and placed Lily into her highchair. There was no chance of him eating anything, until his battle of wills with Lily took place. She was not a breakfast eater, by any means.

"Uh, thanks," Teddy replied, following suit of James and Al and hungrily tucking into his cereal.

Harry nodded at Teddy with a smile, before turning to his beloved daughter. His eyes held some false pretense of hope, thinking that perhaps Lily would eat her breakfast without any fuss today, since Mummy wasn't here to enjoy the show. Lily loved to ruffle Ginny's feathers by flinging her breakfast everywhere, including her mother's work clothes.

"Okay Lil-bug, how about some Cheerios for breakfast this morning?"

The minute the question was out of his mouth, Lily crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, like the petulant toddler she was acting. Her face began to turn a slight shade of red and her head swung back and forth.

"NO!"

Lily's reply resounded through the large kitchen, bouncing off the walls, making each boy in turn stop eating to witness the tantrum.

"Lily…" Harry said, lowering his voice to make it sound firm, hoping his daughter would recognize that he meant business this morning.

"Panny-cakes!"

Lily smiled innocently at Harry, her little fist lightly hitting the plastic tray attached to her high chair for effect. Barely able to muffle a groan, Harry shook his head.

"We don't have pancakes, Lily. We have cheerios."

"NO!"

Once again, Lily's reply reverberated through the house, tears pooling in her eyes to follow her temperamental behavior. Harry mentally berated himself for asking her initially if she wanted Cheerios to eat. He should have known, from experience, that you _told_ a two year old what to do and what to eat, rather than fight with them.

"Lily Luna, you will eat Cheerios for breakfast and that's the end of it!"

With that Harry placed his hands on his hips, surprising himself with the Ginny-like behavior. It seemed to have worked, however, and Lily's watery gaze lowered, the fight draining out of her. Walking over to the cabinet, Harry grabbed the box of Cheerios and took out a plastic pink bowl, Lily's favorite. He poured some into it, before heading back to Lily and landing it on the tray. His attention turned abruptly on to his three boys, who still sat with their mouths open, watching the scene enfold.

"Well, what are you staring at? Finish up with your breakfast!"

Crankily, Harry filled a bowl up for himself, taking it to the closest chair next to Lily, so he could supervise and eat at the same time. It wasn't even an hour into the first day, and he had already had about enough of this. As much as Harry Potter had been through, he found it extremely hard to pull a solo parental act.

Catching Lily playing with more Cheerios than she was eating, Harry placed his own bowl onto the table with a heavy sigh. Grabbing a fistful of the little round Cheerios, he took to hand feeding his youngest, exasperation on his face.

"C'mon Lily, just eat a few more. For Daddy, okay?"

Yes, he was pleading with a two year old.

"Done!" James called out, smiling sweetly at his father as he pushed his chair away from the table and shot up. Before he could make it up the stairs, Harry stopped him.

"Freeze, James!" Harry bellowed, his eyes narrowing at his son.

Pivoting around to face his father, James looked at him wearily. "Yes, Daddy?"

"I believe you have some cleaning up to do, son. Please bring your plate to the kitchen counter and push your chair in. Then, when you are done with that, you may go up to your room and get changed. Clear?"

"Yes, Daddy."

James sighed dejectedly before following his father's instructions, the chair's legs scraping against the wood with his quick effort to avoid getting into trouble.

"Good boy, James." Harry nodded his approval before placing another Cheerio into his daughter's unwilling mouth. He had to place his hand over her delicate lips, to stop her from spitting it back out at him.

"Swallow it, Lily."

"No more!"

"Five more."

"One!"

"Five."

"One!"

"Five."

"Two?"

"Four."

"Thwee?"

"Deal." Harry handed his daughter the promised three, keeping an eye on her to make sure she actually ate the now soggy mess of Cheerios.

Teddy had finished his cereal, along with Albus, and Harry watched all three boys head up the stairs to change out of their pajamas. He knew little Al would probably come down the stairs, in need of assistance. While James was extremely independent, Albus was more on the sensitive side. He didn't mind admitting that he was dependent on his parents still. After all, he _was_ only four!

Seeing the Cheerios gone, Harry smiled lovingly at his daughter. "There, Lily. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Lily thought for a minute before shaking her head, and showing Daddy a smile of her own. Her eyes searched on the counter for her cup, and she stretched her hands out to it.

"What do you want Lily?" Harry asked, knowing very well what she wanted, but wishing to hear it from Lily herself. She was getting much to old to be making simple hand gesture requests.

"Cuppy!"

Harry ran a hand over Lily's hair and stood, walking to the counter and grabbing the cup, before marching to the fridge and pulling out Lily's favorite juice. Ginny normally made Lily have milk with breakfast and reserved the juice for lunch time. But what his wife didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Besides, Harry knew the fight over breakfast could have been a lot worse.

Handing the sippy-cup over to his daugher, thundering footsteps on the staircase caught Harry's attention. Sure enough, a half clothed Albus came stumbling into the kitchen.

"Daddy, zip?"

Harry beckoned his youngest son over to him and proceeded to pull the zipper on Albus' favorite sweatshirt.

"All set, Al. Why don't you go on and work on that puzzle in the living room for a bit?"

While the weather was still nice enough for his children to play outside, Harry still hesitated to allow Albus out, as he was recovering from the chicken pox. Besides, Albus loved puzzles. Hermione had nearly bought out the muggle store of them. Al went through them so fast!

"Then if you're extra good, maybe I can teach you some more about Wizarding Chess!" A wink followed the bribe, as Harry knew how much Albus was looking forward to learning how to properly play. Ron and Harry had both taught him some basics, but Albus still struggled with the strategy concepts a bit.

"Okay, Daddy!" Albus happily wandered off to complete his puzzle, leaving a very satisfied Harry in his wake.

"Dadd-y!" Lily immediately caught Harry's attention and he lifted her out of the high chair, carrying her up the stairs and into her room.

"Okay, Princess. We'll get you dressed into your favorite dress."

While dresses were among the most hated article of clothing, there was one dress in particular that Lily enjoyed wearing. It was the only dress she allowed Ginny to put her in on most days. Harry wasted no time in cleaning Lily up and dressing her, before carrying her back downstairs.

"Why don't you see if you can help Al with his puzzle?"

Harry knew Albus enjoyed the company of his baby sister, even if he wouldn't openly admit it. While Lily couldn't really be much help with the puzzle, she liked to pick up the pieces and hand them to her brother, while he tried to work through it. If that didn't work, Harry figured he could always try and get her to color. Anything peaceful would be fine with Harry. Although knowing the Potter residence as he did, he doubted what the day held would be anything but _peaceful_.

Heading over to the sink, Harry busied himself with the dishes. He didn't know how Ginny did it. In fact, Harry was starting to hold a whole new appreciation for his magnificent wife. How she fed, dressed and cleaned all of their children every morning before he was even out of bed was completely beyond him. As he continued to wash each dish individually, choosing to do it the Muggle way, rather than spelling them, his two eldest wards came dashing down the stairs.

Teddy held his broom in his hand, a winter jacket already placed snugly over his body. James too had on a winter coat, bundled up to go outside. Throwing the dish cloth down on the counter, Harry sighed and shook his head.

"James, what do you think you are doing, young man?"

A sheepish look immediately fell across James' face as he instantly grew uncomfortable. Harry rarely ever called him 'young man', unless he was quite upset. Besides, being five, James didn't completely agree with the term.

"I was gonna fly, Daddy," James replied softly, shifting from foot to foot, behaving in a very uncharacteristic manner.

Harry almost capitulated into allowing James a reprieve. But then he remembered Ginny's anger towards their eldest son and his misbehavior from the week before. He thought better of it and made a decision that he knew would not sit well with James.

"I'm afraid that you're forgetting something very important here, James."

Knowing what his father was hinting at, James didn't mutter a reply, merely looked toward Teddy in a silent plead for help.

"Harry, it's just a little broom ride outside…"

"Teddy, I believe this issue is between James and I. I am also certain that it is a settled matter." Harry's voice held an authoritative tone that immediately made Teddy shut his mouth and nod his head.

"James, you are grounded. In case you have forgotten what that means, you cannot play outside. I will, however, allow you to play a game of Exploding Snap, if you promise me you will be careful and clean up your mess afterwards."

A small smile lit up James' face as he recognized his father's compromise. If Ginny had been the one in charge, she would have never let her son play Exploding Snap, especially not in the house.

"Thanks, Daddy!"

James ran off to his bedroom, to get the game he was rarely permitted to play. Harry turned back to Teddy who was slowly edging towards the front door.

"I would appreciate it if you would stay in the house today as well, Teddy. It's cold outside and I don't need you getting sick as well."

"That's not fair!"

Teddy ground out, fists clenching at his sides. Just because James was in trouble and Al was sick didn't mean he should have to stay cooped up in a house all day!

"Maybe not, Ted, but I'm not changing my mind."

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Teddy rolled his eyes dramatically, putting emphasis on a foot stomp in the process.

"Whatever."

Teddy attempted to run off up the stairs again, no doubt to hide back up in his room, when Harry gently pulled his arm.

"Is that any way to talk to your godfather, Ted?"

Harry asked, a look of mock hurt crossing his features. He knew something was going on with his godson and normally Harry was very good at reading Teddy. If he had a chance to sit down with Teddy and actually talk with him, then maybe they could sort out whatever it was that was bothering him.

"I know you want to go riding. After dinner, okay? How about we go sit down and you can tell me all about your first year? You haven't said much about it since you've been home."

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was bothering Teddy was Hogwarts related. A slow grin spread onto Teddy's face and he nodded, never passing up the chance to have an adult chat with Harry.

Placing a hand amiably on Teddy's shoulder, Harry guided them to the living room, watching his three children play, while taking a seat on the sofa. He pet the seat of the couch next to him and watched Teddy sit down.

He looked briefly at the clock that read noon. His children seemed content and happy. Maybe, just maybe, they could skip naps for the day. After all, Harry wouldn't want to ruin this brief moment of contentment that had seemed to ripple through the household.

* * *

Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it.

I am also working on a few one-shots that focus more on Ron, Hermione, Rose and Hugo. I'll be posting them as soon as I'm done with this one.

xo Mur


	5. To Tell the Truth

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own a thing. I don't own the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fan fiction.

**Author's Note:** What plot? Well, yes, it is rather plot-less. Please forgive that. It is, however, full of Potter/Weasley family fluff. Thank you all who have reviewed this so far. I'm really terrible at replying to reviews, but I promise I'll work on that. This one-shot is a standalone and is not a part two to the fourth chapter. It is another Harry, James, but I'm working on more one shots for the Weasleys. I am sorry I have not updated this as quickly as I would have liked, but I hope to change that asap! Thanks to all of you readers who have given your feedback on this so far. Hope you enjoy!

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**TO TELL THE TRUTH**

_Of course if you like your kids, if you love them from the moment they begin, you yourself begin all over again, in them and with them._

"James, Harry!"

Ginny's abrupt reminder rang through the bedroom, as she hastily slipped her feet into her high heeled shoes. Her disheveled red hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun, any application of makeup long forgotten with the limitation of time. One of her freckled arms reached over to the bed, a hand weaving underneath the strap of her purse, left unzipped from the previous night.

With a swinging motion, Ginny flung the purse up onto her shoulder causing its belongings to slip out, spiraling outward just to end up colliding with the floor.

"Shit."

The curse was muttered softly, nearly mute, as agitation stiffened Ginny's body and soured her already bad mood.

"I've got him covered Gin."

Harry knelt down to the ground next to Ginny, sweeping up what was left of the purse's sprawled contents.

"You do?"

Ginny took a moment to pause, searching Harry's eyes.

"He's spending the day with Neville. They're going to Diagon Alley for the day, while Al and Lily visit your parents."

Ginny gave him a questioning look as she zipped her purse firmly and stood up to leave. "Why didn't you send James over to Mum's too?"

"I figured she had enough on her hands without that one," he started with a smirk, bending slightly to place a brisk kiss on his wife's cheek. "You know how fidgety James gets over there now. Neville offered to take him, so I figured we'd give your poor mother a well deserved break."

A soft scoff came from the doorway, as Ginny turned to descend the stairs. "Some break we're giving her, pawning off two of our hellions on dear Mum."

The kitchen was left in a total disaster, dirty dishes everywhere, an open jar of jam laying on the counter, and the distinct smell of burning coming from the toaster oven. Ginny glanced around the room, a hand pulling at her hair at the sight. She turned around at the foot of the stairs, relieved to see Harry hot on her heels.

"Clean this up a bit before you head off to the Ministry?" She asked, a weary panic weaving its way into her voice.

He nodded his head solemnly as he turned the toaster to off, pulling out the charred remains of bread. "I don't think your breakfast will do much good."

Ginny gave him a sheepish smile, opening the refrigerator to grab a piece of fruit. Shaking it slightly, she leaned up to give Harry another kiss, one more firmly planted on the lips. Harry reciprocated immediately, his tongue flicking against his wife's sweet lips, Ginny graciously allowing him entry.

As the kiss escalated, Ginny pulled away, an apologetic look plastered on her face. "I don't have time for this right now. Hold that thought and we'll pick up where we left off tonight." With that, she was off, a quick flash of red zooming out the door. Harry heard the gentle pop, signaling Ginny's departure to the meeting she was surely going to be late to.

"Daddy, what smells so yucky?"

Harry turned immediately at the sound of his daughter's voice, seeing his five year old with hands scrubbing at her tired eyes.

"Mummy left the toast in a bit longer than she planned," Harry offered, opening the cabinets to pull out a box of cereal for his children.

"Yeah Lil, Mum forgot all about breakfast cause she was too busy eating Dad's face!"

Hearing the smart comment, Harry blushed slightly, his head whipping around to greet his eldest with a steely look. "James, that was hardly appropriate." The admonishment was gentle, but packed with meaning, as Harry divided the cereal into three bowls.

"Is Al up yet?"

"Right here, Dad!"

Harry nodded at the three, indicating them to take their respective seats at the kitchen table, before placing a bowl in front of each.

"After breakfast, you lot go up and get dressed. Grandma and Grandpa will be here soon to pick you two up." Harry swung his index finger back and forth between Al and Lily. "And Neville will be here within the next hour."

James stuck his tongue out playfully at his siblings, proud to have plans that didn't include them. Albus and Lily seemed oblivious to it, however. A day at the Burrow was much more enticing to them than a day out shopping. The Burrow was always filled with different people and fun things to do. Shopping was not only tiresome, but tedious as well.

"Dad, James got more cereal than me, I think!"

Harry eyed his son's filled bowl, sighing heavily as he tried to keep his patience under wraps. "Just eat it, Al." The command was stern and non-negotiable, Harry's temples already throbbing even though it was just the beginning of what was sure to be a long day.

Thus began yet another morning at the Potter house.

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"So James, what do you say about getting some ice cream after browsing through the owls?"

Neville's voice was jovial, a hand clamped good-naturedly on James' left shoulder. He kept the pressure light enough to make it feel like James had full rein, but firm enough to handle the nine year old in the crowd. While Neville was yet to become a father himself, the experience he had with the children at Hogwarts and his friends' children, made him competent in most parental situations, although he lacked the instincts.

"Sounds good, Neville," James grinned at one of his father's oldest friends, as they turned into Eeylops Owl Emporium.

For some reason no Weasley could explain, James was obsessed with owls. From just two years of age, the child had been fascinated with the flying, mail carrying creatures. He would beg for hours to have a magnificent owl of his own, but with little success. Ginny tried to sooth her wailing son, comforting him with promises of his own owl once he started Hogwarts. Although the initial burning desire to own an owl had worn off considerably as James matured, he never passed up an opportunity to watch them at Eeylops. After all, he did have to pick the perfect owl in just two short years.

Neville took his hand off of James' shoulder, allowing the boy to browse to his liking. He couldn't say he was as fond of the animals as much as James, or even that he enjoyed the side trips to the emporium. Neville did it, the trooper he was, for James' pleasure alone. The boy rarely got to go to Diagon Alley, and when he did, Albus and Lily itched at staying inside an owlery too long. Neville understood that instances like these were few and in between, so under the circumstances, a bit of owl gawking wouldn't hurt.

"She's a beauty, huh?"

Neville snapped his attention back to James, a small smile resting easily on his face at the child's excitement.

"She sure is. Reminds me of your father's old owl when he went to Hogwarts."

"Really? Dad had an owl?"

"He sure did. A snowy one, just like this."

"What happened to her?"

Clearing his throat, Neville turned away from James, with sudden regret for bringing up the topic.

"Well, owls can't live forever, James," was his subtle reply, spoken as a gentle reminder.

With sobriety Neville had rarely seen exhibited by the eldest Potter child, James reached out to give the owl a gentle stroke. "He loved her."

"Yes, I suppose he did, James."

James turned around to Neville and beamed at him. "I want an owl just like Dad's when I go to Hogwarts. Think he'll let me?"

"I don't know James. You'll have to check with your parents when we get back."

Satisfied with Neville's answer, James nodded and moved on to the other owl cages. He'd look into some, turn away from others, cooing and clucking at the It didn't take long before he tired from his antics, tugging on Neville's shirt hem to signal that he was ready for departure.

Neville happily obliged, seeking out the door and steering them back onto the bustling alley.

"Ice cream, then?"

"Yes, please."

James', in a moment of rarity, remembered his manners without being probed for them. Appreciating the display, Neville wrapped his arm around the boy loosely, carefully easing them through the crowd.

"So, what kind of ice cream do you like?"

"Vanilla! It's the best."

"I think so too."

"Really?"

Neville was about to respond, when a sickly sweet voice cut through the suffocating summer air.

"Oh Charlotte, isn't that Potter's boy? He's so precious, so much like his Daddy!"

James stopped abruptly, staring down at the two gossiping women with some alarm. Both of Neville's hands found their way onto James' shoulders, squeezing them gently to provide reassurance.

"Yes, Judy, I think it is! The Boy Who Lived, almost an exact replica, I do say! Except without that foolish scar."

The first woman bent down, leaned in close to James, who backed away straight into Neville's knees. He felt foolish, being nine, and afraid of strangers. But they knew him, and James was certain that he didn't know who they were at all. James could feel his pulse quicken, smell the champagne perfume the woman in front of him had drowned herself in. He couldn't help but feel repulsed, sickened, almost to the point where he lost control of the contents of his stomach.

Neville leveled the lady with a glare, trying to guide James away from her in her current kneeling position.

"You grow up to be a savior, just like your Daddy. Make us proud, dumpling."

James' eyes grew wide, as Neville uneasily excused them, briskly finding the way to the ice cream shop. He noticed with regret that James was quiet, almost scared into silence by the sudden disturbance.

Not even ice cream seemed to make James' mood brighten any. By the time they were done eating, Neville threw out the trash, and suggested they head back to the Potter residence.

James gave a sullen nod of his head to acknowledge his consent, allowing Neville to floo them back home. Neville wanted to be able to offer answers to the questions he knew must have been swarming the nine year old's head. But he couldn't do that, it just wasn't his place. This job was designed for Harry or Ginny, not an outsider who didn't really have all the information to give in the first place.

Neville allowed James to go to his room and hide away at James' muttered request. He took a seat in a plush chair, waiting for Harry to get home from work so he could inform him of the encounter, give him a quick warning.

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Harry flooed home from work, exhausted and feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Today hadn't been an easy day. He'd had to send three of his best Aurors on raids happening in Ireland, and one of his best Auror's was on sick leave due to a sudden death in the immediate family. Things had been hectic and Harry was ready to take a bath and settle down with the newspaper for the night.

Having three children and a lovely wife, Harry knew, before he even stepped foot out of the fireplace, that what he wanted wouldn't come true. He would end up having to cook dinner, tend to one of his kids, or coax one of them to get into bed. He knew that, but that didn't mean Harry had to accept it.

Seeing Neville immediately stand up upon his arrival, Harry sensed something was wrong. Neville began to pace, and Harry recognized the early signs of one of Neville's anxiety attacks.

"Neville, what is it?"

"Today we were walking over to get ice cream, and these two crotchety women recognized James as your son."

Harry's face paled. He knew he should have expected it, sooner rather than later, but that was a small comfort to him as he was forced to face the reality of his past. His hand felt the way to a seat, and he planted himself firmly so his knees wouldn't give out.

"What… uh… what did they say to him?"

Neville wasn't used to seeing Harry Potter so shaky, so unsure of himself.

"Just… just that you were the Boy Who Lived… I don't think that James knew what any of it meant, but he sure has been in a sulk since we got home."

Harry nodded his head, overwhelmed, and placed his face in his hands. "You didn't say anything to him, right?"

"No Harry, I'd never do that."

With a small nod, Harry knew that Neville wouldn't take such liberties upon himself, and found relief in that.

"I'm going to go home now, Harry, if you don't mind. You know how to reach me if you need me."

"Thanks, Neville."

Harry watched Neville leave through the floo, sitting quietly for a few minutes to decide how best to proceed. The biggest question was if he should tell nine year old James the truth or not. Harry and Ginny didn't want their children to know of their family's haunted past, about all the trials Harry had been forced to endure. They didn't want any of them to think of him differently, something Harry was positively petrified of. Harry couldn't rationalize telling one child without telling the others, to go through that painful experience more than once.

Telling Lily at five years old would have been completely out of the question. Harry thought nine was still too young to indulge his eldest with the secrets of Harry's past.

But Harry couldn't outright lie, tell James that those women knew nothing. Harry had to tell him something, anything, in order to make this okay. How he cursed those two gossiping women who didn't know exactly what they were forcing Harry to do. How would they know that they sparked such an internal battle in the great Harry Potter?

Shaking his head, he started to stand up, stopped only by his son's brown eyes, imploring him.

"James!"

Harry sat back, slightly taken aback at his son's sudden presence. "How long have you been there?"

"Not too long."

James climbed up onto his father's lap, something he had long ago prided himself to be too old for. Harry didn't let his surprise at the action come through, but wrapped his arms tightly around his son. He didn't dare drop a kiss on his son's forehead, although that's what he wanted to do. It reminded him of a time when James was young, and constantly sought his father's reassurance.

"These people knew me today, Dad. But I didn't know them. They called you things. Good things, I think. But I don't know why."

"James… there is no easy answer to this. I want to tell you. Your mother and I need to tell you and your brother and sister. But right now is not the time. When you're all a bit older, we can tell you. But not right now."

"But Dad…"

"James, don't fight me on this. Your mother and I will tell you everything when the time is right."

"But how come they called you the Boy Who Lived?"

"There was once a time when I was considered that, but it's a story for a different time."

"Dad, I can handle it! I'm mature enough."

Harry smiled gently at the use of the word, as James clung to his father seeking comfort. "You know how you can show me how mature you are, bud?"

James shook his head from side to side.

"You can wait until we are all ready to hear this story. You can accept that there is a story to tell and that I will tell you when the time is right. Can you do that for me, James?"

Reluctantly, James nodded his head, looking down at his hands. "I'll try hard, Dad. Promise."

"Good boy."

Harry let go of James with a final rub to his son's back. "I'm proud of you, James." He said softly, causing James to grin.

"We have to go get Albus and Lily, and make dinner. What do you say we all cook tonight, and surprise Mum?"

"Only if we can have dessert too!"

Laughing, Harry agreed, extending his hand to James and entering the fireplace. With a puff of dust, Harry and James, father and son, whirled off to the Burrow.

When the time came, it would be hard to deal with. Harry fully trusted his family to accept him, past or not, and that helped a great deal.

* * *

Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it.

- Mur


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